The crowd is, in fact, filing onto sides. Maitimo points out his cousins on the other side. Maitimo's uncle Nolofinwe descends from the crowd to go speak to the King. Maitimo frowns. Nolofinwe and the King are dressed almost exactly alike.

Is that normal?

No. No it is not. And it's provocative - it says that the remaining-in-Valinor side is the King's side, when he's been trying not to take one...

Augh.

Voices rise in excited chatter. The King and his son speak. Maitimo's frowning and straining to hear them.

And then the room goes silent. Fëanáro is standing at the top of the stairs. He is in armor, elegant but unmistakably not ceremonial. He is carrying a sword. The disconcerting energy that always hovered around him makes him suddenly menacing.

Nolofinwe hasn’t stopped talking. He’s raised his voice, if anything. In the sudden silence of Fëanáro’s entrance it echoes loud and clear. “King and father,” he says, “wilt thou not restrain the pride of our brother, Curufinwë, who is called the Spirit of Fire, all too truly? By what right does he speak for all our people, as if he were King?” 

Maitimo hisses under his breath. Nolofinwe takes the King's hand. “It was you who long ago spoke before the Quendi, bidding us accept the summons of the Valar to Aman. It was you who led the Noldor upon the long road through the perils of Middle-earth to the light of Eldamar. If you do not now repent of it, you still have two sons who honor your words.”

A thousand people inhale at once. Maitimo is utterly still. 

And Fëanáro draws his sword.

Hey, Tyelcormo?

Yeah?

If you two were going to do something scandalous pre-exile, better do it quick, your dad just drew a sword.

What?

Your uncle came in dressed just like your grandfather and started badmouthing your dad, who walked in in full armor carrying a sword while this was happening, everyone else noticed but your uncle didn't so he kept going, and your dad drew the sword.

And then?

And then I informed you that if you want to do something scandalous before you got exiled you'd better do it fast.

Fëanáro walks down the stairs towards his half-brother and touches the point of the sword to his chest. "Look!" he says. "It's sharper than your tongue. If you try to pit my father against me again I will use it."

Nolofinwe nods. And leaves.

Imliss transmits this to Tyelcormo.

Fuck.

Yep.

The auditorium is in an uproar. Maitimo stands up. Let's get out of here.

I think we've officially found something big enough to justify the talks, she comments, getting up.

Yep. Well, no one got hurt, Maitimo says grimly. 

Categorically better than the alternative but not good enough to bring this up to "not a disaster."

Nope. 

They step out into the courtyard. Feanáro and Nolofinwe are right there, still talking heatedly, Feanáro still with the sword at his brother's throat 

Why doesn't the King do something? Maitimo hisses.

You know what would be really great right now? Some kind of magnetism-based powers or something. Not that I expect your dad would be happy with me if I decided I knew better than he did whether he ought to be threatening people with swords.

I am assuming there is a lot of instigating content we don't know anything about and also that once he calms down he'll regret this.

I think lots of people are going to regret this.

Yep.